By Morning We're One
by Suzie's Q
Summary: Lily wakes up to find her fiancé's not in bed.


I don't own Harry Potter, or his parents.

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**By Morning We're One  
**Summary: Lily wakes up to find her fiancé's not in bed.  
Pairing: J/L  
Word Count: 2,475  
Rating: K+

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The bed wasn't where she'd fallen asleep, but it was where she woke up, no more than a few hours later. She woke suddenly and quietly, and once she looked around, she found the reason why she had woken up at all: there was no one sleeping beside her.

There was a strip of light leaking into the room from under the door, and she frowned to herself. It struck her that James had never left her side before, not at three in the morning, as the clock read.

Worry started to unfurl in her chest, and as she slipped out of the bed, she absentmindedly reached for the ring on her finger, twisting it around anxiously as she stumbled through the darkness to the door, peeking out through the small gap where the light bled in.

Their flat was small, specifically chosen because it reminded Lily of home and was in an inconspicuous Muggle block (because James had wanted to live in a Muggle area), but it was comfortable and somehow spacious without having too much space. She trudged through the darkness of the hallway, following the light from the living room, and paused where the hallway ended and opened into the cosy, warm living room.

The fire had dwindled down to embers by now, but the desk lamp was on, and from where she was standing, it almost gave the impression that there was a halo around James' head. She could just about hear a quill scratching across parchment, and she watched from end of the hallway as he dropped the quill and sealed his letter in an envelope, before sitting back. He clasped his hands behind his head and stretched his legs out in front of him, the way he always did, and it made her absurdly happy to realise that she knew him well enough to notice these things about him.

She didn't want to startle him – since everyone was on edge these days – but just as she was about to slip back to bed, he turned, his face all shadows, apart from one strip of light and the reflection at the very edges of his glasses.

He smiled lopsidedly, his cheek dimpling on one side. It was a different smile to the one she used to know, that boyish, devilish smirk, but it was warm and it reached his eyes and she knew it by heart, as if it was burned onto the inside of her eyelids.

"I thought you were sleeping," he told her, leaning one elbow over the back of the chair.

"I was," she replied, padding over to where he sat, draping her arms loosely around his neck. "I woke up."

"I should certainly hope so," he muttered, leaning his head back so he could see her, blinking at her.

"If you tell me you can see up my nose, I may kill you," she warned, narrowing her eyes threateningly.

"Well, would it help if I told you it was a beautiful sight?" he replied, sniggering.

She stifled a small chuckle, making a point of rolling her eyes again dramatically. "What are you doing?" she asked, resting her chin on his shoulder and peering at the sealed envelope curiously.

He raised one eyebrow, glancing sideways at her. His eyes were saturated and intense, as they so often were these days. He waited.

"Well," she said, adopting a haughty tone. "Obviously I sensed you weren't with me and began to panic, naturally. You know I can't go without you for mere minutes."

She felt, rather than heard, his soft chuckle. "I just remembered I had to do something."

"Something so urgent it had to be done at three in the morning?"

He nodded, putting the quill away in the drawer and turning the envelope over in his hands. "That, I take it?" she mumbled in his ear, running her hands along his arms in a way that was both familiar and comforting to them both, while she eyed the sealed letter in his hands. He poked the corner of the envelope into the pad of his finger distractedly.

He nodded again, turning to look at her. He didn't say anything for a few seconds, or smile, he just looked at her. Lily had learned to let him. "What's it about?"

He smiled to himself, setting the letter down on the desk and hauling himself out of his seat, his fingers tangling in hers without either really noticing. "Just making some arrangements," he told her.

"For what?" She couldn't help it – if James had really been dying to tell her, he wouldn't have waited this long, but it was in her nature to prod him. That itself was something she had come to love; she wanted to know everything about him, and she hoped she'd never lose that feeling.

"Our honeymoon."

She blanched, her hand going limp in his. Of all the things – all the bizarre, insane things – that he'd ever said to her, that was the last thing under the sun that she would have predicted. "Honeymoon."

He nodded, grinning at her with a twinkle in his eye. He tugged on her hand and pulled her into him, his arms encircling her waist. "You didn't think you weren't getting a honeymoon, did you?" he asked her, quirking an eyebrow. She gladly settled into his arms, resting her hands on his chest.

"Well, I did, actually," she admitted in a small voice. "The war..."

He nodded, moving one arm so he could take her hand in his, playing with her fingers delicately, while his other hand remained firmly on her waist. "Doesn't mean we stop living," he muttered. "That's what my Mum said, anyway. We're still getting married, aren't we?"

She looked up at him, and the worry that was beginning to rise up in her stomach receded and vanished again. He was still smiling down at her, his eyes soft, and there was no chance she would have felt anything other than completely safe.

He didn't ask or wait for an answer. He didn't need one. "Besides," he went on. "They can last without us for a couple of days," he said, as if that settled the matter. "We deserve it. _You _deserve it. You do. After everything."

She shuddered, and his arm tightened around her reassuringly, pulling her flush against his chest. She tried not to think about the months that had just passed. "You might be right about that," she mumbled, a frown darkening her features, and her voice getting smaller and smaller. The moment he saw her expression, his face fell.

"We'll be fine," he told her softly, and if Lily had a Galleon for every time he'd told her that, she would have been swimming in gold. He told her that because she needed to hear it, desperately, and he'd known that. But it was also because he didn't really have much else to say anymore. And maybe, just maybe, if his voice hadn't wavered slightly, she would have believed it.

They had changed in the last few months, they'd both known that. But Lily was relieved and overjoyed to see the things that hadn't changed. And some things weren't bad. They had become closer, if anything. Every kiss, every embrace, had become deeper, like they could pour all their passion into one moment, in case they never got another chance. Every gaze become precious and meaningful; every deep, private conversation they had when they were curled up in their bed at three in the morning gave her that familiar fuzzy feeling, and it had a warm place in her heart. Love became a driving force, and they were both powerless against it.

"Don't worry about a thing, okay?" he murmured. She nodded. She closed her eyes, and allowed herself to feel. And she realised that she could be happy – she could be excited without a honeymoon, and she had learned not to feel guilty in light of all the bad that had happened. It didn't force out the light or make the good things unimportant. In fact, it made them more important.

She was about to speak – to ask him where they were going, to thank him for a honeymoon in the first place, to tell him how much it meant to her and how much he made her happy, especially when she knew how hard he tried to do so – but he cut her off, pressing his mouth to hers and swaying them gently where they stood, humming in her ear with a broad smile.

"Jaaames," she murmured, shaking her head.

"What?" he said gently, squeezing her hand. "Come on, we should practise for our wedding."

She chuckled and shook her head, resting her other hand on his shoulder and let him sway them around and around, humming quietly to provide some music. He spun her under his arm, swaying further and further until they were both laughing and like a see-saw swinging back and forth, leaning on one leg and then on the other.

Once she started laughing, she couldn't stop, and occasionally she still marvelled at how easily he could make her laugh, when he took her hands and danced with her to no music, or when he teased her, or when he tried to help her when she wanted to bake and got flour everywhere.

They calmed after a few moments, and James rested his forehead on hers, while the last few chuckles died down between them. His fingers slipped out of hers and travelled down to her waist instead, his arm circling around her and bringing her closer to him. He was still smiling at her.

"So where are we going?" she said softly.

"Hmm?"

"Our honeymoon," she murmured, nudging her nose on his. "Where are we going?" She couldn't help the small smile that spread as the words left her lips.

"Anywhere you want," came the sleepy reply. He closed his eyes, their foreheads still pressed together, and now they only swayed gently. "You know I only want you to be happy."

Her heart swelled, and she was quiet for a minute or two, her fingertips tracing patterns on the back of his neck. She remembered the first time she'd realised why he told her those things. Not to try to impress her or because it was what he thought she'd want to hear, but because he really meant them.

"But I want us both to be," she prodded, intending on bringing the conversation back to a destination.

"You're happy, I'm happy," he replied instantly, almost lazily, like he thought he really didn't have to explain that.

"Well, where are we going?"

"We're going to Greece."

She blinked at him, and without realising it, she came to a stop, prompting him to open his eyes and gaze at her. His stare seemed a little more intense than normal.

"Greece."

He nodded, yawning. "You've always wanted to go there, right?"

She spluttered for a second. "Well, yes... But how did you know that?"

He shrugged his shoulders, his hands firmly holding her waist. "You told me," he said simply.

"When was this?" Lily racked her brain. She could remember dozens of late night conversations that lasted until the first sign of light stretched over the sky. She could remember tons of dinner dates with nothing but conversation to keep them entertained, as well as coffee at least once a week since they'd started going out. She could remember private, stolen moments amongst large groups, things they could only share with each other when they most needed to.

But she could _not _remember addressing holiday destinations or those sorts of plans for the future; those types of plans were too normal to even think about these days.

"Blimey, erm..." James frowned in thought, shrugging his shoulders again. "You said it in fifth year, maybe? Fourth year."

She stared at him for a few seconds, swallowing.

James smiled lopsidedly. "Is that okay? I mean, if you don't want to, we can always go somewhere different. I thought about Spain or the Caribbean or somewhere, but you _did _mention Greece and it's meant to be beautiful and –"

She cut him off by pressing her lips to his lingeringly, smiling against his mouth. "I love you," she whispered.

His mouth quirked up at one corner, and his grip tightened on her waist for a second. "So does that sound good? Greece?"

She nodded, her arms twining around his neck tightly. "That sounds amazing."

He grinned, kissing her forehead. "Yeah, you're right," he said thoughtfully. They'd stopped moving now, and he was glancing around their apartment like it was the first time he'd ever seen it. "Our honeymoon is going to pretty amazing, isn't it?"

Lily giggled quietly, wrinkling her nose. "Well, maybe. As long as you hold up with that amazing wedding you promised me. Or there won't be a honeymoon at all."

"I can do that," he chuckled. "And of course, being the _amazing husband _that I will be, I'll make your wedding unforgettable."

Lily beamed, brushing her fingers through the ends of her hair. "Well, you give me an unforgettable wedding and I'll give you an unforgettable honeymoon."

He laughed, shaking his head. "I like the sound of that. Are you coming to bed?"

She nodded, eyeing him curiously. Before she knew what was happening, she felt her knees buckle from under her as he swept her up.

She squealed, gripping his shoulders tightly. "You know, you don't have to keep doing that."

"I'm just practising for our wedding night," he retorted, grinning down at her. He took up his wand to turn off the lights before chucking it down on the couch.

"You really shouldn't just throw it around the place," she mumbled, pressing her face into his shoulder. "That's why you keep forgetting it."

"Ah, you're exaggerating," he whispered as he set her down on the bed gently. She sighed heavily, smiling up at him.

"I don't even know what to say. I didn't even know we were getting a honeymoon."

"You don't have to say anything," he mumbled, crawling into the bed beside her and yawning as he pulled the covers up. "You deserve it. You deserve a little happiness, with everything."

She sighed, rolling on her side to peer at him through the darkness. "I love you, James."

"I know you do," he mumbled, sleepiness seeping into his voice. "Go to sleep. Big day tomorrow."

"Yeah." She grinned, kissing his cheek. "See you tomorrow. Don't be late, okay?"

"For my own wedding, Evans? I'm not that bad."

She just laughed, curling up under the covers. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Mrs. Potter."

"Not yet," she yawned, grinning into the pillow, feeling her cheeks heat up.

"One more night," he reminded her. "I'm just practising for the real thing."

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